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City of Fallen Angels Teasers 2010

City of Fallen Angels by Cassandra Clare

Release Date: 5th April 2011

January 2010“He is bound to you,” said the Queen. “But does he love you?”
﻿February 2010“‘That’s not the point, Simon.’ Maia had moved closer to Isabelle and the two of them faced him down together, an immovable wall of female rage.”

March 2010Magnus still had his head in his hand.”i just don’t see,” he said, “why the past has to matter.”

April 2010“How many other people?” Alec asked. “Roughly.” Magnus shook his head. “I can’t count and it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how I feel about you.” “More than two hundred?” Magnus looked blank. “Three hundred?” “I can’t believe we’re just having this conversation now,” Magnus said, to no one in particular. “Why so many?” Alec’s blue eyes were very bright in the dimness. It was hard to tell if he was angry — he didn’t sound angry, just very intense, but Alec was a shut-down person and perhaps this was as angry as he ever got. “Do you get bored with people fast?” “I live forever,” Magnus said quietly. “But not everyone does.”

May 2010“But I thought that you were still in love with Clary,” Isabelle said.

June 2010“There is something you have not told us, Clarissa Morgenstern,” said the Silent Brother. “A secret you both have been keeping.” Clary tensed. “What do you mean?” The mark of death is on this boy.” “Death?” said Jace. His voice was modulated, careful, not afraid. “Do you mean I’m going to die?” We mean that you *were* dead. And yet you live. The balance of life and death is a delicate one, young Shadowhunters. You have upset it.”

July 2010Clary made a surprised noise, but didn’t protest, even when Jace lifted her up and carried her over to the bed. They sprawled onto it together, crushing some of the letters, Jace knocking the box itself aside to make room for them. His heart was hammering against the inside of his ribs. They had never been in bed together like this before, not really — there had been that night in her room in Idris, but they had barely touched. Jocelyn was careful never to let either of them spend the night where the other one lived. She didn’t care much for him, Jace suspected, and he could hardly blame her. He doubted her would have liked himself much, in her position. “I love you,” Clary whispered. She had his shirt off, and her fingertips were tracing the scars on his back, and the star-shaped scar on his shoulder than was the twin of her own, a relic of the angel whose blood they both shared. “I don’t ever want to lose you.” He slid his hand down her cheek, to her throat, to the top button of her blouse.

August 2010

Jocelyn’s green eyes softened. “I did notice Jace wasn’t here, Clary. I just didn’t know if you’d want to talk about it.” “I mean,” Clary went on doggedly, “do you think there’s something Jace could do to *make* you like him?” “Yes,” Jocelyn said. “He could make you happy.” She touched Clary’s face lightly, and Clary clenched her hand, feeling the bell press into her skin. “He does make me happy,” Clary said. “But he can’t control everything in the world, Mom. Other things happen — “ she fumbled for words; how could she explain that it wasn’t Jace making her unhappy, but what was happening to him, without revealing what that was?

September 20101.“You think you’re a vampire,” Simon’s mother said, numbly. “You think you drink blood.” “I do drink blood,” Simon said. “I drink animal blood.” “But you’re a vegetarian.” His mother looked to be on the verge of tears. “I was. I’m not now. I can’t be. Blood is what I live on.” Simon’s throat felt tight. “I’ve never hurt anyone. I’d never drink someone’s blood. I’m still the same person. I’m still me.” His mother seemed to be fighting for control. “Your new friends — are they vampires, too?” Simon thought of Isabelle, Maia, Jace. He couldn’t explain Shadowhunters and werewolves, too. It was too much. “No. But — they know I am one.” “Did — did they give you drugs? Make you take something? Something that would make you hallucinate?” “No. Mom, this is real.” “It’s not real,” she whispered. “You think it’s real. Oh, God. Simon. I’m so sorry. I should have noticed. We’ll get you help. We’ll find someone. A doctor. Whatever it costs —” “I can’t go to a doctor.” “Yes, you can. You need to be somewhere. A hospital, maybe —” He held out his wrist to her. “Feel my pulse,” he said. She looked at him, bewildered. “What?” “My pulse,” he said. “Take it. If I have one, okay. I’ll go to the hospital with you. If not, you have to believe me.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and slowly reached to take his wrist.

2) [This teaser will make sense mainly to those who have read Clockwork Angel.]“Camille,” Magnus said. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”She smiled. Her skin looked whiter than he recalled, and dark spidery veins were beginning to show beneath its surface. Her hair was still the color of spun silver and her eyes were still green as a cat’s. She was still beautiful. Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec’s, heard violin music like the sound of silver water. He saw a girl with long brown hair and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.

And then there was Camille.

"I’ve missed you, Magnus,” she said.

October: 2010Alec/Magnus with a mini-teaser about Clary/Jace.1) “I don’t know what I want.” Alec, his head bent, was playing with an abandoned plastic fork. Though his eyes were defiantly cast down, their pale blue color was visible even through his lowered eyelids, which were pale and fine as parchment. Magnus had always found humans more beautiful than any other creatures alive on the earth, and had often wondered why. Only a few years before dissolution, Camille had said. But it was mortality that made them what they were: the flame that blazed brighter for its flickering. He wondered if the Angel had ever considered making his human servants, the Nephilim, immortal. But no, for all their strength, they fell as humans had always fallen in battle through all the ages of the world.“You’ve got that look again,” Alec said peevishly, glancing up through his lashes. “Like you’re staring at something I can’t see. Are you thinking about Camille?”“Not really,” Magnus said. “How much of the conversation I had with her did you overhear?”“Most of it.” Alec prodded the tablecloth with his fork. “I was listening at the door. Enough.”“Not at all enough, I think.” Magnus glared at the fork and it skidded out of Alec’s grasp and across the table toward him. He slammed his hand down on top of it and said, “Stop fidgeting. What was it I said to Camille that bothered you so much?”Alec raised his blue eyes. “Who’s Will?”2) Jace caught her hand in his. “Just say it again.”“I’ll never leave you,” Clary said.“No matter what happens, what I do?”

November 2010Teaser 1)

The Queen’s eyes glittered. “You told me that you did not wish to make a compact with me, for there was nothing I could give you. You said there was nothing in the world you wanted. When you imagine your life without Jace, do you still feel the same?” *Why are you doing this to me?* Clary wanted to scream, but she said nothing, for the Faerie Queen glanced past her, and smiled, saying: “Wipe your tears, for he returns. It will do you no good for him to see you cry.”

Teaser 2)

“That wasn’t fair," Simon said. “Maybe,” said Isabelle. “But I watch my brothers give their hearts away and I think, Don’t you know? Hearts are breakable. And I think even when you heal, you’re never what you were before.”***December 2010The alley and the music all fell away, and there was nothing but her and the rain and Jace, his hands on her. . . He made a noise of surprise, low in his throat, and dug his fingers into the thin fabric of her tights. Not unexpectedly, they ripped, and his wet fingers were suddenly on the bare skin of her legs. Not to be outdone, Clary slid her hands under the hem of his soaked shirt, and let her fingers explore what was underneath: the tight, hot skin over his ribs, the ridges of his abdomen, the scars on his back. This was uncharted territory for her, but it seemed to be driving him crazy: he was moaning softly against her mouth, kissing her harder and harder, as if it would never be enough, not quite enough —